


Wearing your heart on your skin

by C_C



Category: NCIS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-15
Updated: 2013-09-19
Packaged: 2017-12-26 15:17:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/967494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/C_C/pseuds/C_C
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finding out Tony has a tattoo isn’t really all that surprising. That it’s recent isn’t all that much of a shock either.<br/>No, the surprise is that it isn’t some girl’s name or a movie quote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony's ink

Abby called up just before Tony arrived in the bullpen. She was babbling so I couldn't be completely certain but I thought I caught accident and Tony.

Judging by the fact that Tony emerged from the elevator scowling and soaked I take it she meant she set off the fire sprinklers.

Ziva began to tease him about it but before she could get ten words out the wet shirt hit her in the face. I was about to try and break it up when I was caught by the sight of a tattoo on Tony’s back.

Finding out Tony has a tattoo wasn’t really all that surprising. That it’s recent wasn’t all that much of a shock either.

No, the surprise was that it wasn’t some girl’s name or a movie quote.

Tony has “Semper Fi” tattooed on his left hip.

And I really wanted to ask him why but I know Tony well enough to know he’d turn it into some innuendo about me looking at his ass.

“What happened, Tony?”

He turned to me and out the corner of my eye I could see Ziva noticing it. “Chemical reaction set off the fire sprinklers in Abby’s lab.”

“When did you acquire a tattoo Tony?”

Tony pulled his fresh clothes out of the filing cabinet and shrugged like he wasn’t sure, “Seven months, I think.”

“And is there some reason you have the Marine Corp motto permanently etched in your skin?”

“Of course there is,” was Tony’s only response as he left to get changed.

Ziva asked questions for a week or so but Tony never gave anything more than that away. With the debated exception of the question “Are you dating a Marine?” Tony had stiffened but not said a word, Ziva thought it was meaningful, I didn’t.

It got to the point where I forgot about it for the most part.

 

It wasn’t until Abby discovered it that it came up again.

It was the middle of July after three hard cases in a row, two of which involved kids, and Abbs insisted on a team barbeque. Gibbs offered (or was bullied into offering) his house and grill and it was a done deal.

Abby even brought games. After two disastrous attempts at Frisbee we were all sweating and panting, aside from Gibbs and Ducky who wisely volunteered to take care of the food.

Tony tossed his shirt on the porch railing and flopped into a chair in the shade but not before Abby spotted the tatt.

“You didn’t tell me you got a tattoo!” Abby declared in clear outrage.

“I didn’t tell anyone,” Tony returned innocently.

Abby stomped her foot, “Well let’s see it.”

Tony groaned as he got out of his chair and presented his back to her.

She raised an eyebrow and murmured “Really Tony?”

“I didn’t pick it,” Tony defended.

That drew the attention of not only Abby and myself but also Ziva and Palmer.

Abby of course just went for the jugular, “Who did then?”

I can’t be sure but I think Tony blushed, “The person I went with. They picked mine and I picked theirs.”

“That sounds serious.” I’m glad she said it, as it appeared I was incapable of speech at that moment.

“I guess it is,” Tony said like it didn’t occur to him before he let someone else permanently mark his body.

“And what did you pick for them?” I heard my own voice asking.

That seemed to startle Tony, “I think I’ve indulged the collective curiosity enough for one day.”

Ziva was giving me a look that very clearly said “I told you so” and I shrugged at her.

Gibbs called out “Burgers are ready,” just in time to keep either of us from antagonizing Tony.

He sat himself at Gibbs’ right hand and pouted theatrically, “Not cowboy style steaks?”

“Not when I’m grilling for seven,” Gibbs retorted easily.

Unlike Ziva and I, Abby didn’t let it drop. She asked Tony, us, Ducky, even Gibbs, any question she could think of to try and puzzle out who Tony’s Marine was.


	2. The other tattoo

So of course it followed that I was the one to figure it out, quite by accident, in the worst possible situation.

Gibbs and I walked into our suspect, Dr. Harriman’s lab just in time for her to figure out we were there to arrest her and splash us with god knows what. In a disease research lab. Just feet from the pass through into the clean room.

Thankfully our back up arrived to take her into custody as her colleagues ushered us into their decontamination room.

There was something disconcerting about being stripped naked by someone in a hazmat suit. So much so that I saw Gibbs’ tattoo before I remembered common shower etiquette, namely “eyes on the floor.”

And in that few seconds I saw far more than my mind could handle. It was just three little words: "As You Wish”. It could have meant anything or nothing at all. Except that it was in the exact same spot and font as Tony’s and I’ve seen the Princess Bride.

“On it Boss” would probably have been too on the nose but in that moment I finally understood what Tony meant when he said it. Which made me wonder exactly how long they’d been together.

A path I really don’t want my mind going down.

Instead I tried listening to the scientists who work in the lab and found that it might actually have been the more disturbing path. It turned out we’d been splashed with a culture of what might be an especially virulent strain of influenza. If we’d been infected it could be deadly. And no tests would tell them if we’d been infected before we were due to start showing symptoms twenty-four hours later.

We were taken to a glass room at Bethesda and within half an hour Tony and Abby were on the other side of the glass.

They both spoke to Gibbs for a couple of minutes before Abby left them to come around and talk to me. We exchanged platitudes for a minute or two before I looked over and asked absently, “Which one do you think is Buttercup?”

Abby looked at me like I’d grown a second head so I told her what I’d seen.

She squealed, “It’s twue wuv!”

I rolled my eyes at her, “I assume so.”

It seemed her outburst caught Gibbs’ attention, “I think they’ve figured us out.”

“Took ‘em long enough,” Tony responded amicably.

 

Tony clearly took it as a given that he no longer had to hide since we’d figured it out. He spent the night in a chair pressed against the barrier next to Gibbs’ bed, his left hand splayed on the glass. I woke to the sound of them talking quietly at oh five hundred.

Neither voice really carried but Tony’s unhappy laughter was unmistakable.

I couldn’t help but listen closer.

“It’s twenty-four hours. Harriman is in custody and the girls are taking care of the paperwork.” Tony insisted softly.

“And when they let us out you’ll be too exhausted to do your job,” Gibbs retorted sounding kind of... worn.

“I was sleeping,” Tony snapped. He seemed to notice he was being loud and dropped his voice again, “I slept most of the night. I only woke because you were calling my name.”

“You were about to fall out of your chair.”

“Damn it Jethro I am not going home.”

Gibbs made a move to put a hand on Tony and was stopped by the glass. He sighed, “Fine, but could you talk Brad into letting me have some coffee?”

Tony laughed honestly at that, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Tony left the room and Gibbs turned around to face me with a raised eyebrow, “Something interesting there McGee?”

There was no point in acting like I hadn’t been ease dropping, he’d known I was. I decided to just aim for neutral, “Who’s Brad?”

“Dr. Brad Pitt, he treated Tony when he had the plague,” The look Gibbs gave me was a reminder that I hadn’t visited Tony at all while he was in the hospital. I hadn’t really known Tony then, and Abby had yet to indoctrinate me into the school of thought that team was family yet at that point. I’m not dumb enough to tell Gibbs any of that though.

Thankfully before I had to find some sort of response Tony and a doctor entered chatting amiably. The doctor stepped up to the glass where Gibbs’ bed was pressed close to Tony’s chair, which I had initially missed. He smirked at Gibbs, “Tony tells me you’re demanding coffee Jethro.”

“The symptoms of caffeine withdrawal will mask any flu symptoms I might be developing.”

“Still manipulative I see,” The doctor commented dryly.

“Come on Brad, he’s being a good boy. Listening to the nurses. He even slept,” Tony cajoled.

“And here I thought he was the enabler,” Dr. Brad murmured.

“We’re a good team because we know when to improvise,” Gibbs smirked.

“One cup every two hours, no more,” Dr. Brad relented. He turned to Tony, “And don’t you even think about breaking quarantine. If it is a form of influenza you’ll suffer far worse from it than he will.”

“I’m far less impulsive than he is,” Tony assured him.

“I truly doubt that Tony. After all, we’ve met.”

“I was right in college, you are an asshole.”

“And yet the pair of you insist I’m your doctor,” Dr. Brad smirked.

“He’s just frustrated,” Gibbs commented with a nod at Tony. “Doesn’t sleep well alone.”

“You don’t either.” Tony dropped into his chair, “Thanks Brad.”

“You’re welcome Tony. Make sure you rest Jethro.”

“Thank you Brad, and I’ll try.”

 

Both Gibbs and I ended up with what turned out to be a fairly mild flu. Dr. Pitt kept us in quarantine for a week. I suspect it had as much to do with the fact that Tony would have obviously climbed into Gibbs’ bed as the danger that despite our mild reactions it would indeed prove to as bad as the research suggested if passed on.

While I’ll admit I’m still scared of Gibbs, as is healthy, I’ve learned over the years that it’s unlikely that the man will actually kill you without real, legal cause. So given that we were stuck in what was essentially a glass box together for a week it was inevitable that I would end up asking something about the fact that he and Tony were apparently in love.

Even I was surprised when the question, “So how long have you and Tony been together?” came out of my mouth.

Gibbs just sort of smirked, “A long time.”

“And the tattoos were?” I asked cautiously.

Gibbs huffed a laugh at that. “Tony was getting hit on a lot. Started talking about how we should publicly commit to one another. I wasn’t about to hand Vance an excuse to break the team up because Tony was a little insecure about the fact that I hadn’t frog marched him down the aisle. I suggested this instead.”

“But you’re pretty much married.”

“Ya think? I let him permanently mark me.”

“If that’s what it was about why does he still act like he thinks he’s a ladies man?”

“Misdirection. None of the four of you is any good at keeping secrets and like I said we want the team to stay together.”

“Why tell us now?”

Gibbs smirked, “I can claim you’re having delusions caused by your fever if you get gossipy.”

“And that you were trying to check out his ass when you allegedly saw the tattoo of course,” Tony added from his habitual off duty post beside the glass.

“That isn’t very discrete either,” I commented waving at Tony’s chair in an attempt to not address that accusation.

“Brad’s always known and the nurses don’t care enough to gossip,” Tony shrugged.

“Brad thinks he’s cupid,” Gibbs retorted to Tony ignoring me once more.

“In our case he kind of is.”

Gibbs’ right hand found the glass, “We would have made it on our own.”

“Took us long enough with help,” Tony returned with a rueful smirk.

 

I didn’t discuss it again with Gibbs or Tony but two days after Dr. Pitt let us go Abby and Ziva turned up at my place with Thai food and a million questions.

Abby ceded the first question to Ziva. “I do not understand, how did you know what the tattoo meant?”

I shook my head and Abby answered for me, “It’s from the Princess Bride, Ziva. It’s a movie Tony loves.” Abby then turned to me, “So they’re married?”

“From what Gibbs said they’re only not married because Vance would break up the team.”

“Did they say how long they have been together?” Ziva asked still seeming confused.

“Neither of them would tell me exactly.”

Abby began to fidget nervously, “Do you really think Vance would break the team up?”

I bit my lip, “Gibbs seems to think so.”

“Then this stays in the family,” It was a definitive statement and they both turned a menacing gaze at me.

“I would never-”

 Abby cut me off with a skeptical look.

“I promise, it doesn’t leave the family.” And one way or another, it won't.

**Author's Note:**

> Now with bonus comment fic below about matchmaker Brad.


End file.
